


A Bit of Rain

by Paxella



Category: Archie Comics
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxella/pseuds/Paxella
Summary: The history of Reggie and Midge; how it came to be, and where it's going.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first three chapters of this story waaaay back in 2005 and am posting the work here in the hopes of finally picking it back up; I still ship this *hard*.
> 
> As such, the rating is likely to change as the story progresses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this preface is stylistically (/tense) different from the rest of the story so don't drop it like a hot rock, if that turns you off. My decade-ago self was venturing a bit melodramatic here, but frankly that's the way the subtext of the ship leans sometimes (especially in the newer books...wow, Reggie/Midge in the newer books).

_I need her...I need to know how her skin feels against mine, I need to feel her soft body for more than a split second in a crowded school hall, a brief brushing of mind and soul... I need more than a glimpse of her eyes and a quick smile of hello. I need more than this make-believe, this endless array of, "I touched her once in the hall. She must be in love with me. She's gotta be in love with me. Who wouldn't be?" I need her...I want her. I need her to want me back, I want her to need - why won't she look at me?_

Sound stops in his mind. Bodies fly around and past him crying their meaningless school cries, ignoring him, not wanting him, not needing him; never needing him. She's just like them. She'll never see...she'll never look deep enough. She'll never _know_.

_Why the hell won't she look at me? Oh, God, just let her look at me, let her really look...please just let her SEE ME!_

Her locker door closes with a gentle shove from her liquid fingertips, and she walks, books pressed protectively against her chest, eyes questioning something, but never the correct thing.

_She never thinks of me. She never questions me. She never sees me._

Her footsteps are the only sound he hears; her gentle breathing, the beat of her heart and the rush of air she creates in every subtle touch of movement. She must be close now; she must be very close...she's coming...this time will be different.

It has to be.

Or the world will end.

It comes now; the gentle brush, the pause. She's touched him with her shoulder...accidentally. She stops, glances up towards his eyes, briefly, and smiles a quick smile of hello. More make-believe. More pretend. Nothing new. The world must end.

But then a new sound, a voice, a word, a sentence - "Are you all right, Reggie?" The voice shakes, as though it knows the truth. It must know the truth. "You...you don't look so well."

_I'm not well. I'm sick. I'm sick over you. I love you! I need you, I need to feel you, I need you to understand! Oh, God, please understand! Please...!_

His protective barrier from sound breaks with a single yell, a mighty yell which won't allow the subtle mingling of her heartbeat with his own. The dream dies. "MI-IDGE! HURRY IT UP!"

She turns a moment, then turns back; she finds his eyes a second time. "I have to go...Moose and I are-"

"MIDGE!"

She bites her lip and he quivers.

_I want those lips. Let me have your lips, let me taste them; please, just want me to taste them... Just once, that's all I need...! Just one more time. Once more. Please..._

"I have to go. I'll talk to you later, I guess, I..." She hears her name again and turns; she leaves quickly; she takes his heart with her, fails to notice his desire which weaves him to her, tears emotion from his chest and leaves him to die; heartbeat fading. Gone soon.

"...goodbye, Midge."

_See you tomorrow. Same time, same place. I'll be waiting._

He heals quickly, bandages around his feelings like a tourniquet, numb and cold again; disagreeable and complicated. Predictable and hated. Bodies fly around and past him, crying their meaningless school cries, and he joins them. Pretend. Make-believe. Happy-go-lucky, arrogant and wise...fulfilled.

Somewhere, she thinks of him.


	2. The Lake

She came five years ago to this sleepy little town at the age of twelve, clutching her spirit like a precious jewel, for at any moment it may turn face on her and disintegrate to sand. She smiled at everybody; was kind to everybody. She made friends and feigned happiness. The truth must be apparent, she thought - she wasn't pretty enough, tall enough, popular enough, _good enough_. Her new friends must have known how to pretend; they had her fooled into thinking she had been accepted. She couldn't believe...if it all turned out to be a great big lie, she would die forever wondering if she was truly enough of anything.

Without her knowing, she quickly caught the eye of a friendly young man with blonde of hair and a bit of a tummy. He pursued her with poorly-written love letter, flowers and cream-filled chocolates. He accepted her, and she believed. A single summer changed everything. And so it was that she was quickly labeled Moose Mason's girl, and the boys, knowing Moose's temper regarding things he cherished, grew both weary of and intrigued by her - look, but never touch. Touch, but never tell; of course, she never let them touch. Not even Moose. She was better than that...she clung to her innocence, turned thirteen in August, tried to understand her feelings. She struggled to believe that she was truly loved.

Weekends were spent in the company of her _boyfriend_ (a term which took some getting used to) over ice-cream sodas or, on particularly hot days, impromptu trips to the closest lake for stupid-smiley-flirty picnics and toe dangling in the water. And so it came that one weekend Moose was not available for such gaiety, and since all the girls seemed preoccupied, Midge was pleased to be in the company of herself for awhile. It was a particularly hot day; the lake was nearby. She took the trip by foot, walked through a familiar maze of trees and came upon a clearing where the light shown down hesitantly through tree-tops and was forced by the water's reflection into a mischievous game of tag with the land.

Midge was at peace; she felt a strange sort of love all around her and knew that somehow Moose had left the feeling there for her if ever she was in need of comfort. She sat against an old oak and set about taking off her shoes and socks; she wriggled the toes of her left foot and looked to her right, then stopped suddenly at the sound of splashing water. She gasped in the realization that she wasn't alone and, not knowing was else to do, stood and lifted her left shoe in a threatening manner, eyes darting anxiously about the lake in search of the intruder. She heard a rustle from behind, and turned quickly to see a small animal spring off into hiding. She sighed, lowering her shoe in relief...she was simply hearing things. Paranoia, that was all. Simple. Then again...

"Hello? Hey, wh-"

The strange voice forced Midge back around; the shoe deserted her hand on its own, and she was quite appalled to find it the next moment careening towards the voice's guardian - she gasped and shielded her eyes briefly.

"Ow! What the h-...what do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm sorry," Midge said weakly, her voice rushing, "I didn't mean anything, you surprised me, I mean, why are you sneaking around here anyway, scaring people like that!"

"What are _you_ doing throwing shoes at people?!"

Midge allowed her eyes and better judgement to focus in on the boy now nary a yard in front of her, who stood rubbing at his forehead which had apparently accepted the better part of Midge's shoe and was growing redder as he rubbed.

"Don't rub it like that, it isn't helping."

The rubbing ceased, and was followed by a justifiably confused sneer. The boy seemed to be at a loss for words, and shook his head in an odd and frustrated manner. He kicked at Midge's shoe and muttered softly, "I'll rub it however I want to."

"Sorry..."

"Sure you are."

"I don't...I don't think we've met." Midge bit at her lip uneasily; one day she would surely have to outgrow her habit of saying silly things. "I mean, I don't...I'm...my name is Midge."

The boy was silent for an uncomfortably long time; his face held the type of sneer so cold that even on a day like today, Midge felt herself chilled. As his face grew harder and less friendly, Midge grew softer and more intimidated. And as such, the boy turned around in such a way that he almost mimicked her behavior, thawed by her apparent sensitivity and the soft apologetic sparkle in her eyes. He sighed heavily and picked up the wary shoe, extended it towards her and waited for her to accept his feeble peace offering. She held it stupidly, eyes focused on his face, unsure of a proper reply.

"Midge?"

She nodded.

"Reggie." He extended his arm again, this time with the intention of shaking hands; Midge fumbled with her shoe, switching hands, and shook. A smile slowly overtook her face and forced her eyes to sparkle in a new and better way, and for a moment Reggie's grip tightened a little too much, forcing Midge to wince. He promptly let go. "Sorry."

She nodded to indicate that there was no harm done, and found herself relaxing to the point of conversation.

"I'm sorry about..." Midge indicated the shoe which still resided in her hand, "but you caught me off guard, I mean...I've never seen you around before. I mean, I haven't been here very long. I mean..."

"I was gone for awhile. For the summer." Reggie nodded down towards Midge's feet, letting go a smile. "Were you going in or coming out?"

"Oh, I...I...coming out," Midge lied. She sat down awkwardly, found her sock and took to redressing. She was surprised to find Reggie sitting very near to her, legs crossed, smiling at her still and chuckling gently to himself. She smiled back, her slight embarrassment turning her cheeks a pale shade of crimson.

"So you're new in town?" Reggie asked finally.

"Yeah. Yeah, pretty new," Midge replied, finishing off her laces. She met his eyes and found herself out of words, but regained her vocabulary a moment later. "I've been here for a few months. You must have left before I came. Um...you said your name was Reggie?"

"Yeah. Reggie Mantle."

"Oh, I've heard of you."

"Lies, all of it lies."

Midge would have laughed at the cliched response if only she didn't feel that he was serious; and, having heard the things said about him, she understood why he would be so quick to deny any allegation regarding his character...although, she decided, they were probably all true.

"I'm Midge," she repeated. "Midge Klump. Please, no jokes about my last name, I've heard them all."

"I would never!" declared Reggie, putting his hands up and shaking his head innocently. "Why would I make fun of your last name when your beauty more than makes up for it?"

Tacky, thought Midge. Very tacky. He was too old for his age, she thought. And phony as a purple elephant. And yet she found herself smiling, nearly blushing at the sideways compliment, and she found Reggie smiling back. If she had known him better she would have realized that his smile was surprisingly honest and that there was something very strange about him very suddenly that would have taken his closest friends by surprise. All Midge knew, however, was that this boy sitting with her, this pleasant boy with the pitch-black hair and the long-forgotten sneer, was exceptionally cute when he smiled, and it left her feeling warm inside.

For twenty minutes, perhaps an hour, perhaps three, they sat together, talking of little things and big things; where had she come from? Where was she going? Did she enjoy rock concerts, and if she did, would she be very interested in attending one next Friday night? Yes, she would be interested in doing such a thing. She would very much enjoy it. And so it was that Midge sat alone aside the lake, pondering her feelings, drowsy with comfort. She had told him all about herself, and yet she knew nothing of him - he had barely said a word about himself. How very odd, she thought. I'd heard differently of him. He was such a good listener...and had such pretty eyes...

And then, quite suddenly, Midge felt her thoughts pause. She looked around, feeling strangely empty, confused and alone. She had neglected to think of Moose. She had forgotten the strange and wonderful air of love which she had felt upon arrival to the lake - she searched for it a moment, stood, and swallowed away her sudden pang of guilt. Moose would understand, she decided. She had made a new friend today. There was no harm in that...no harm in going to a concert together. No harm in sharing shallow heated breaths and rapid heartbeats over simple conversation.

Midge stared out at the lake for several minutes, watched the light vanish, and turned towards home.

Sleep came uneasily that night.


	3. The Rain

Tuesday afternoon...heat clung to sidewalks and gripped sneakers in a struggle for survival, until at last children were forced to walk on lightly dewed grass, crushing blades like so many broken hearts in that misty hot summer. Laughter rose jovial and fell miserable; the heat brought out the worst in everybody. Nobody could be happy on such a day.

"I wish it would rain," came distant, scattered voices. Midge Klump heard them all and silently identified, but never voiced her concerns of the sun's cruelty, for her mind found itself preoccupied with more important things; too cluttered to care about anything else.

She walked today beside Moose Mason, grasped his hand from time to time and sighed uneasily. He smiled at her sheepishly, asked her of her weekend, felt sorry that he hadn't been with her. _Incredible,_ she thought, _how much he seems to love me. It can't last forever, I know. I wish it didn't feel so...strange, is all. I wish he didn't love me quite so much. I don't think I'm ready._

"So you had a good time this weekend?"

"It was fine. You know...I didn't have much to do." She paused uneasily, adjusted her mind, took to thinking of other things. At last she spoke, "Not much to do," and that was all there was to that. She took to watching Moose, his blonde hair sticky with sweat, his smile almost permanent and full of wonder as he looked around, ignoring heat in favor of small animals and new flowers. Midge looked with him. His soul wrapped its arms around her gently, and all was well.

\----------

"I thought we'd all meet at my place before the concert and have a bite to eat, maybe a swim in the pool? It's been so hot, lately. Hasn't it been dreadfully hot, lately?" Veronica Lodge sighed a heavy sigh which called the attention of the group around her. Five children had placed themselves some time ago on the lawn of one Archie Andrews, who, at present, had convinced his father to turn on the water sprinklers to make for a quick cool-down. Veronica had chosen to stand away from said sprinklers in order to save her new blouse, and hadn't spoken until now.

"I think we all noticed the heat," came the slow voice of Jughead Jones. "I don't think anybody's going to argue with you. It's hot. Stop talking about it and maybe you won't notice."

"Oh...!" Veronica stamped a foot softly. "You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you want to come to my house before the concert on Friday! I have half a mind to uninvite you."

"Wouldn't be the first time," replied Jughead in a lilting manner, and he turned his attentions back to the others placed around him, who hadn't thought to speak for some time, either. "Aren't we a sorry bunch? Geez, c'mon, it's not _that_ hot!"

At this, Reggie Mantle let out a long, loud sigh, and sunk backwards on the grass, staring towards the sun. He squinted uncomfortably and sighed again before voicing his most recent thoughts: "You guys ever notice the sun? I mean, not just the sun, I mean...the grass, and the flowers, and...the birds, and...the sun. Boy, that sun!"

"He's talking gibberish," moaned Veronica. "Now I know it's hot. Reggie's head isn't working right."

Jughead stifled a laugh. "Too easy, it's too easy, I can't...it's too easy."

"I guess I just never really noticed the sun, before. Boy, it sure is a beautiful day!"

Silence laid its heavy hand again, this time one of bafflement and slightly sickened sneers from the boys. Perhaps Reggie _was_ succumbing to the heat. Perhaps this was a good thing. His "pleasant factor" had risen considerably in the last ten seconds. But still...

"Is he okay? Talking about beautiful days and birds and flowers?" asked Jughead, peaking light interest. "I mean, what is this talk? Mush talk, that's what it is! Never heard that sort of talk from him before. I think I should investigate." And so Jughead rose, proceeded towards Reggie, and stood over him, blocking his sun. They met eyes. Jughead smiled.

"Hey, there, Reggie boy. Seen any nice daffodils lately?"

At once, Jughead was snatched by the ankles and forced to the ground, spitting grass and growling ever so lightly. He turned to see that Reggie had sat up and was staring at him in a forceful sort of way. "Don't _mess_ with me, Jones."

Jughead sneered a rather profound sneer and shook his head as he stood, brushing himself off from his momentary tumble with the lawn. "Boy, are you ever in a mood. You've been manic depressive all day, I swear."

"Manic depressive?" asked Archie, as though he were somehow involved in the conversation.

"Manic depressive," repeated Jughead. "Crazy one minute, creamy the next."

"Isn't he always like that?" piped in Betty Cooper. All eyes shot to her, surprised to hear her voice. She brushed several strands of blonde hair from her eyes and shrugged. "Just saying."

"It's none of your business!" shot Reggie, standing dramatically. He hadn't meant to direct the comment towards Betty, but he somehow had, and he appeared somehow apologetic for a moment before turning instead to Jughead, a source of greater anger. "It's none of your business!"

"I never insinuated that it was, it's just that we usually don't see you expatiating about the sun's great beauty."

"Just shut up, Needlenose!"

"A-ha! See, now _that's_ normal!"

Reggie took to huffing, unable to think of an appropriate reply, perhaps because he had very little on which to argue his case. So instead, he sank back to the grass, pulling his knees to his chin in a protective, slightly wimpish manner, which he would have regretting had he known about it.

"Just leave me alone."

The tenderness in Reggie's voice forced his companions to stare in bewilderment. Something must be very wrong, they decided. Very wrong, indeed.

It was the soft, sincere voice of Betty Cooper that broke the barrier. "Reggie, is something the matter? You can tell us if something's the matter."

Reggie turned to Betty slowly, releasing his knees and allowing his face to free of lines. She smiled at him, and he thought to smile back, half-heartedly, before releasing a sigh and a nod.

"It's not that there's anything wrong. It's a good thing, I guess. I'm not going with you guys to the concert on Friday."

"That _is_ a good thi-" began Jughead, but thought otherwise when Reggie's eyes struck him. "I mean, uh...why...why not, Reg?"

"I have a date..." He paused, sucked in his lips thoughtfully. "I've heard things."

"About what?" asked Archie.

"About my date." He paused again, and since nobody thought to ask he inserted uneasily, "That new girl, Midge."

Veronica gasped, meeting Reggie's eyes with her own wide, outraged orbs. "You mean that sweet girl who's taken up with Moose Mason? Reggie, how could you!"

Reggie's lines reappeared; his stomach churned. "You mean it's true?" He shook his head. "She didn't tell me that, why didn't she tell me that?"

Archie whistled. "Boy, Moose has had it out for you since second grade. Ever since the cafeteria incident. He really likes that Midge...he won't stand for this."

Reggie groaned, whimpered gently and hit the ground with a clenched fist. "Well, what am I supposed to do!"

"Cancel the date!" shot Veronica. "By all means, cancel it! How could you possibly think to break up a lovely relationship like that! Reggie Mantle, you're so low!"

Reggie's eyes widened. "I didn't know! I swear it, I didn't know! You guys've gotta back me up, I didn't know, tell him that, tell him!"

"I'll tell him," said Archie. "But I think Veronica's right, Reg, I don't think you need another black eye, your father had a hernia the last time."

"I can't break the date!"

"Why not?" asked Jughead. "It's not that hard, you just go up to Midge and say..." Jughead's sentence trailed off as his eyes sank across the street; he watched a figure coming up the sidewalk, huffed thoughtfully and said, "Well, what are the chances of that?"

It was Midge. Away from Moose, alone, unprotected. On cue. What _were_ the chances?

Her blue skirt, down to her knees, whipped about in a graceful manner as though at the hands of an unseen wind; her hair, cut short in her pixie-way, pressed low from heat; sweat lined her face gently and only proved to increase the beauty she didn't know she had. Reggie swallowed this in the first few seconds, stood and took to walking as voices spoke to him and fell on deaf and careless ears. He was magnetized, and she his destination...perfect metal in the form of perfect girl.

And so it was that he was walking next to her, and she, realizing this, could not find the words with which to address his sudden and intrusive presence. Her footsteps stopped, then his. They met each other's eyes...and it was easy. They'd known each other for a million years or more.

"Hello!" said Reggie finally, as though greeting her was a great triumph. He smiled at her for a spell, then fell to clumsy muttering, and Midge, not knowing what to do, returned a faint, "Hello."

"Hello..." He laughed uneasily. "I said that already. Uh..." Rubbed at his neck nervously. "Hey, about...about Friday..."

Whatever his intentions were, they were quickly forgotten. Self-sacrifice is easy to deliver when facing a pair of the bluest eyes you ever saw - his father's hernia would be well worth the cost.

"The concert, it's at seven-thirty. A bunch of us are meeting up at Veronica Lodge's place first, and-"

"Moose said that if I go anywhere with you, he'll-"

"What did Moose say?"

And suddenly, it was over. Charades fell to the ground and carelessly covered up their feet. The truth was clear...friday night would never come.

"I'm sorry," said Midge, her voice scant and aching. "I would like to, but I...I have other plans."

The lie was useless, but eased the sting. A brief, noble bit of anesthetic, it did its job and faded into memory. Reggie nodded, laughed a cocky laugh and shrugged. Numb...pain-free.

"Well, that's too bad. You really would have liked the band, they...they play some really good music, you know. Band. Music. You know."

"Yes. I know." And, fearing he would take once more to muttering, Midge spoke in sudden, flurried tension. "Thank you for Saturday, you don't know much it meant to me, just talking with me like that, I mean, I...I've had trouble making friends, I haven't had much time away from Moose, I...I think you're just about the prettiest boy I ever saw-"

She stopped abruptly, stepping back from him. Her embarrassment forced her cheeks crimson and intensified the lovely pixie look about her, forcing Reggie's heart into a strange and cryptic rhythm which ached to move his mind and soul to work, but he fell short of knowing what to do.

Midge, encased in nerves, looked from place to place along the ground, and finally she turned to walk away. Forever awkward and confused, she never thought to realize what she had just begun.

She walked. She was gone. Reggie was still. What seemed like minutes captivated time that would have served him better elsewhere, but his thoughts could not be broken by reality.

Across the street, the Andrews' lawn was bare...the clouds had turned a shade of hollow gray, and those with working minds had taken shelter. For in a moment, the rain would come.

He wouldn't think to move.


End file.
